


anyone but you (no one but you)  OR  Rose Garden

by cemetrygatess



Category: Star Trek: Deep Space Nine
Genre: A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson, Epistolary, First Kiss, Happy Ending, Julian Bashir: alien fucker, Julian makes some bad choices, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Julian Bashir, Post-A Stitch in Time - Andrew Robinson, Post-Canon, Saccharine, Sweet, Yearning, a very loose relationship with beta canon, but some good ones too, so much yearning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:01:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,582
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25117306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cemetrygatess/pseuds/cemetrygatess
Summary: May I call you Elim? You never gave me that permission, and using it I feel presumptuous I must admit. But what I am about to say, I do not think I can address it to Garak. I can only address it to Elim. If that offends you, well then I offend you.24 years after Garak left DS9, Julian writes him a letter.
Relationships: Julian Bashir/Elim Garak, Julian Bashir/Ezri Dax (past)
Comments: 29
Kudos: 149





	anyone but you (no one but you)  OR  Rose Garden

Elim - 

May I call you Elim? You never gave me that permission, and using it I feel presumptuous I must admit. But what I am about to say, I do not think I can address it to Garak. I can only address it to Elim. If that offends you, well then I offend you. 

Over 20 years ago you wrote me a very long letter about your life, and while we did correspond for a time after that, I never really returned the favor. Let me tell you about my life in the 24 years since you left DS9. I will not pretend I do not think you are capable of learning at least some of this information on your own, but I will not flatter myself to assume that you would have wasted your time on such an effort. I will assume you are ignorant of everything, if only for the pleasure of relating it in my own manner. You wrote me a novel, and this is likely to be more of a chapter. 

Do not mistake brevity for lack of feeling. 

***

When you left Deep Space 9, I was of course still with Ezri then. We were solidly in the honeymoon phase but the honeymoon phase doesn’t last. After about 6 months on DS9, Ezri decided she wanted to switch to command which meant leaving the station. So I had to decide then to either commit or cut loose. And for once in my life committing was the less scary option. She looked at me and said “you don’t have to come with me, I will understand.” But I couldn’t be alone Elim, not after the war. I followed her not because I loved her (though I did, and a part of me always will), but because I felt she was all I had left worth anything. 

We transferred together to the USS Tubman. This was a two year mission to the Delta Quadrant with a small crew of only 103. They promoted Ezri to Lieutenant Commander, and made her first officer. It was a big step for her, and one I would have let her take alone if I had had the guts. 

It was perhaps foolish to take our relationship, not a year old, on such a journey, but we did. I was young and full of hope, and in her own way so was Ezri. I don’t know why Star Fleet allowed it, though if I am to venture a guess, when a 300 year old joined Trill says this is my partner, StarFleet says yes of course, and not are you sure about that? The mission was a great opportunity for her. StarFleet Admirals, and then and ever since have seemed to want to give her such opportunities. I was overqualified by leaps and bounds, according to StarFleet, so they could hardly turn me down for it. (Why they think sending young doctors to the deep reaches of space where they can get no institutional support is a good idea is beyond me. But they do always send the youngest on these sorts of missions). 

Even if you had only looked me up once since we last saw each other you would likely know a bit about the events on the USS Tubman.

Captain Ryndal was very famous even before the trip. He was a war hero and a hot shot, the sort who didn’t always follow the regulation to the letter. Perhaps you can appreciate that. He was famous enough that he couldn’t be demoted, but wild enough that StarFleet didn’t want to give him too prominent an assignment. I often now think about how foolhardy it was to send such a man far into the Delta Quadrant where no one would have any oversight of him. Additionally, it was a radio silent mission — no messages in or out. 

Perhaps that was the point, so that whatever he did, StarFleet could claim ignorance. A cowardly approach in my mind. 

Everything went smoothly for the first six months. There were several planets identified for first contact, others for colonization. Contact of course would be planned out later in detail, which was not the scope of our mission. We found a planet where it rained gold. There was an uncomfortable encounter with a very powerful godlike entity - but honestly Elim, these are very run of the mill for StarFleet personnel. Things were going well, with Ezri and I in particular. 

But then things started to go south with Captain Ryndal. He was becoming more erratic. It was little things at first, taking unnecessary risks — not just being bold, but taking risks which provided no strategic advance. After a couple months he was yelling at his bridge officers, Ezri in particular, but he targeted the whole staff. 

There was a feeling of alarm and discomfort on the ship. We were all beginning to feel the weight of radio silence. As the Chief Medical Officer, it was my job to relieve him of duty. Which I deemed appropriate very early on. He fought the decision of course, and I was forced to restrict him to quarters. 

Despite his unwillingness to be scanned it became clear that he was suffering from some unique neurodegenerative illness. With no way to contact StarFleet for our mission, Dax made the call that the mission would continue under her command. This is a fairly standard decision to make, but one that ended up coming up under some scrutiny later. 

Captain Ryndal did not go down easy. I worked hard to find a cure for what ailed him but it was a nontrivial medical anomaly, something I have never seen before or since. Several months into his confinement, he broke free, and took the ship and crew hostage. He commanded the ship under penalty of our deaths. He was able to hack the computer from his confinement to be his accomplice, and to lock all crew in their quarters. He only let any of us out when he needed something, and never more than two at a time. The crew lived under constant threat of death for the four months he had control of the ship. 

I was eventually able to find a cure. It turns out the cause was an alien prion, a protein which is able to trigger the misfolding of other proteins. It seemed he had picked it up from an away mission months before, and the disease had come on slowly. I administered the cure, and he was again relieved of duty. After which Ezri made the decision to end the mission and head back to the Alpha Quadrant. 

There was of course a massive investigation. The CMO had removed the Captain to put his own girlfriend in command; that would have been questionable enough. My judgement was vindicated by the captain’s choice to violently take back command (another reason for the investigation). I thought there was a chance one or either of us would lose our commission. But instead we both received commendations. Ezri was now on the fast track to be given her own command, and suddenly I was receiving awards for prion research. 

You can imagine that such events would push Ezri and I together. Or perhaps you cannot imagine. Regardless, they did. We relied on each other deeply during that mission, and the four months locked together in our quarters. And at many points she could have pressured me to initially relieve Captain Ryndal sooner, and she never did. And this is not to mention the trauma of the confinement of being prisoners so long on our own ship. For a time, we were in perfect sync. 

After the investigation ended, we took a vacation to Risa and I got down on one knee and asked her to be my wife. Why wouldn’t I? She was beautiful and smart, and we liked each other’s company tremendously. It was the longest relationship of my life. She said yes of course. 

We were ridiculously happy for a short while. There’s nothing like an engagement for joy that I have found before or since. No award, no achievement, no promotion can do mentally for you what it feels like to think you are about to marry your soulmate. Do I believe in soulmates? No, not really. But nearly everyone does the first time they are engaged. We took an excessively long shore leave before finally traveling to DS9 to get married. Neither of us like our families very much then so it was easier to have the celebration there.

I didn’t receive your letter until our return from the Delta Quadrant. I read it slowly, afraid of what it might say. And eventually I replied, though my reply was short, and contained a wedding invitation (I willfully pretended this wasn’t cruel). Your polite reply was more kindness than I deserved. I was disappointed that you did not come to the wedding (though relieved in a way). At the time, I understood that Cardassia was busy, and that you were busy. Sometime afterwards, I began to wonder if that was all that kept you away. 

After the wedding, we were put on a series of assignments together. You knew Ezri, so this will not surprise you. She was and is very good at her job. She kept being promoted, and I was happy to be a doctor wherever she went. I was of course very proud of her. For the most part, these were happy years, certainly simpler than the years before them. 

About seven years into our marriage, Ezri started talking about wanting children. Maybe you can imagine that my genetic status gave me some misgivings about pursuing that, but it became clear that that’s what she wanted. I wanted to make her happy. We tried for two and a half years with no success. I would be lying if I said there wasn’t a part of me that felt relieved. The combination of 300 years of memories, and her training as a councillor made it easy for Ezri to observe my reluctance. Tension between us began to build. Finally she suggested we take our next assignments separately. 

I’m not proud of what comes next, Elim. But I value honesty and there’s something to confession, huh?

I was stationed on Deep Space 7 near the neutral zone and she was light years away on the USS McClintock. I always preferred a space station. A bit more rooted than a ship, but less so than dry land. Limbo if you will. For the first time in years, I felt like I could breathe, Elim. I loved her so much, but it wasn’t right. Our union was a weight, a burden to us both. We could never admit it to one another. So I did the cowardly thing. 

I hadn’t been on the assignment for more than a week. I was in the dining room, having an evening glass of synthale and taking in my new home. A man approached me, an Andorian engineer. He was a pleasing shade of blue, with a solid frame. I liked the look of him; he liked the look of me. A well placed hand on my knee was all it took for me to go to bed with him. (See Elim, I wanted to do the bad thing)

His name was Etyr. He didn’t know I was married till after that first time. But it didn’t change much when he did learn. It wasn’t a romance. It was animal. It was a craving. We didn’t have meals or conversations. We met in each others’ quarters at any hour of the day or night. I knew very little about him. It was what happens when a man denies his desires for too long. I should have stopped it, but I didn’t want to. I wanted a divorce, and didn’t want to ask for one. 

Well I got what I wanted. Several months into our separate assignments, Ezri had an opportunity to visit me. She decided to surprise me. She succeeded. When she entered my quarters, we were both naked. Etyr was inside me. We weren’t particularly quiet as a rule. I told you I wasn’t proud of it. 

The divorce that followed was a lot more amicable then you might expect. I think Ezri understood implicitly that it wasn’t really about her. I’ve apologized at least a hundred times. It will never be enough. If you can believe it, we're still friends. That doesn’t make up for or excuse what I did. 

The thing between Etyr and I lasted another 6 months, after which I met his wife. It turned out Etyr and his wife had an arrangement which allowed for him to seek other partners, perhaps that’s why my having a wife didn’t bother him. Nonetheless, the thing between us fizzled out not long after. He was a poor facsimile of what I truly wanted, so I was hardly upset when he was reassigned. I was a divorcee on a space station, all alone but for the smoregus board of species traipsing on and off the station. 

I should have written to you then. I tried on more than one occasion. But it was not lost on me that you were beginning to grow in political prominence quite seriously, and I felt I would be an unwelcome distraction. Surely, I felt you would have said something if you had anything you wanted to say. I had so much to say, and have so much to say still. But I convinced myself at that time that becoming the Castellan of the Union was more important than anything I might say, and that I would simply get in the way. Duty to the state above all else. Was I wrong to think so?

***

Miles O’Brien around that same time sent me a video of you in a tele interview for one of your political campaigns. His caption on the message was simply “Haha”; that taunting man. (there’s something about how your best friends can be the cruelest). The clip he sent me was short, but unedited. I am sure you know the one. Nevertheless, I have the words memorized in case you have forgotten. 

The woman, an older Cardassian journalist asked “Councilor Garak, more than one Cardassian has noted how odd it is that you’ve had such a distinguished political career but remained unmarried. It’s highly unconventional.”

“I had a great love at one time, and found no one else could compare,” you said, your eyes seemed very bright and sharp to me. 

“Yes go on.”

“My love for Cardassia is singular. While many citizens balance a family and duty to the state, I found I never could. This is healthy and to be encouraged. My love on the other hand has always been very intense, lacking entirely in balance.” You pause then. “Cardassia is the great love of my life.”

I have to admit Elim, I’ve watched this video too many times, and gone over it in my head a thousand times more. I always wonder… is there two loves you speak of, one from another time, and one for Cardassia? Is it a fanciful hope. Or have you only ever loved Cardassia? I would not begrudge you for it. I would even expect it. But I have thought of it many times in hope. You taught me there was always some truth in lies; I’ve spent so much time trying to pick through them. 

***

I did the two things which anyone might do in my position. I focused all my energy and attention on my career, which had been successful, but which I had not been prioritizing or driving forward with any sort of ambition. Second, I slept around. Why, you might ask? (or maybe not)

Well for one, I’d had the dream girl, and I ruined it on purpose. Does such a person deserve a second chance at love? I certainly did not feel so at the time, though I have become more forgiving as the me that made those decisions moves further into the past. And two, I knew who I wanted — I knew then! It felt simultaneously out of my reach, and undeserved. This is why I didn’t write you for so long. Did you know? Perhaps you knew. I’ve always imagined you capable of reading my thoughts from light years away. I know it’s not the case, but I always imagined it. So instead of trying at the one thing I really wanted, I sampled anyone who would let me, wondering if they might satiate me. 

(I am writing you now, doesn’t that answer if that was the case?)

At least my career was good. My full augmented intelligence focused on a series of escalating medical problems. If you look me up Elim you will see I’ve saved entire species, cured diseases which decades of research made little progress on. None of it made me truly happy of course, and that just made me work harder. The work didn’t feel empty, per say (how can it when you save lives?) but the gratification was always short lived, and I craved more and more. 

My life went on like this for years. I think my friends suspected I was not entirely happy, but were at much a loss for what to do about it. I mean, Elim, how bad do you  **_really_ ** feel when your friend cheated on his wife, and then later finds himself unhappy? Miles was quick to remind me that my problems were of my own making on more than one occasion. And Kira didn’t talk to me for nearly a year afterwards; she was more angry than Dax if you can believe it. 

I was visiting Miles on Earth when it was announced I had been again nominated for the Carrington. At 53, I was the second youngest ever nominated, second only to myself. Miles saw the nomination brought me no joy. It had been at that point 10 years since my marriage had dissolved. He asked me what, if anything would make me happy. I told him. He laughed at me. (what did I say about the cruelty of best friends?)

Well right around this time my father became quite ill. My mother had passed suddenly several years before, and he had no one to care for him. 

You know enough of how I feel about my father. If nothing else, we are both members of the shitty fathers club. He so badly wanted me to be something that he made me it. And I thought time would fade that resentment, but I do not think it has. Jules Bashir may not have been twice nominated for the Carrington award, but I suspect he might have been a happier man. As a Cardassian, I suspect my happiness would be of less value than what I have contributed. Well I am Human, and I should have liked to be happy. 

I made a decision that I am not sure I shall ever truly understand. It defies logic. I left StarFleet and moved back to earth to care for my father. Every decision I made for 30 years of my adult life centered on avoiding this man, and yet when he needed me, I was there. Family? They get their hooks in you whether you want it that way or not. (Duty, and all that)

Decades ago, he went to jail so I would not. He deserved it, no doubt. But many men would have done less. 

Now, back home on Earth (was it ever home?), I found our relationship improved. We were able to have many conversations which we had each avoided for so long. (You see a pattern dear Elim?) His sickness took two years to run its course, he died peacefully in his sleep three years ago. It was a greater loss than I had expected. He had finally begun to see and to understand me, and I lost him. Perhaps this should have taught me something about waiting too long. But then I waited three more years to send this letter. I waited till your retirement. 

I bought a piece of land outside Santa Fe, New Mexico. I picked somewhere dry and largely warm, hoping it might be to your taste. I’ve started a rose garden. They aren’t Edosian Orchids, but they are fussy. They require time and love and correct pruning. I have a small medical practice. I walk to work everyday. I still do research, but not at the breakneck pace I once did. For the first time in a long time, I feel quite happy and settled. Well, mostly. 

***

Elim, I have attempted for so long to not write this letter, to let our past go slinking into the dark. But after years of struggle, I find I cannot. You always seemed so comfortable in ambiguity, and I have always admired that about you. To be a very good liar you must be able to believe two contradictory things completely. I was never as good at lying as you, Elim, though I did for a time try it. I lied to myself about what we were to each other, or at least what you were to me. But now, light years away and with absolutely no hope of returned sentiment, I find the edges of the lie peeling back, like poorly done wallpaper. 

I think my letter thus far has been plain enough for you to understand my meaning in writing to you. But after all this time I find I must be explicit. I will not be misinterpreted, willfully or otherwise. 

If you find what I am about to express repugnant for some reason or other, please let me assure you that I wouldn’t blame you for that. By all means you may ignore this letter, or respond to it with advice about gardening or some other innocuous topic; I will understand, and I would not blame you one bit for doing so. (the roses certainly would thrive better under your care than mine.) 

After such a lengthy preamble, I have only to say that you were the great romance of my life. Though we never kissed, and I did so much to ignore and dismiss it at the time (I’m sorry for that). 

Elim, it didn’t take me long to realize you were flirting with me. Certainly it was less than a year into our friendship (though now, more than 30 years later I must admit I do not remember the moment of realization). I explained it away as something you did only for your own amusement. Perhaps that is the truth of it, though I hope not.

As time passed, and our friendship solidified, I justified that it was just our dynamic, nothing more or less. By then our conversations, and your friendship were too important to me. It was easier to ignore the thing between us than to feed it. 

When I saw you in camp 371, after a week in isolation, I thought I was hallucinating. I thought I must be dying to see such a beautiful sight. Tain kept saying you would come save him, but I confess I didn’t dare dream I would ever see you again. But you did come. And you trusted me with your father’s dying confessions, and you ultimately saved us.

You saved me in so many ways over the years, Elim. When I came on the station, I was as green as could be. Though perhaps less idealistic than I pretended to be, I was still very naive. I grew through our friendship. Much of what and who I am is thanks to you. Without our friendship, I don’t know if Julian Bashir would have made it through the war. 

After our return of 371, my genetic status was revealed, and the war began. Things between us shifted. Everything was less playful, so we were less playful. It made it easier for me to deny my feelings for you, and to instead seek out Ezri. 

I’ve had many partners in the 24 years since we last saw each other, Elim. Very few have elicited from me a fraction of what I feel for you. Certainly none of them have been as enjoyable to share a lunch or an argument with. Time has forced me to admit what I never could during the course of our time together; you are singular, at least to me. 

Nonetheless, I can almost say I don’t regret the life I’ve lived. I’ve had many experiences I would not trade. And I’ve watched you build a thriving Cardassia from afar. That has brought me joy at least. More than once, I have wished to be there with you. Though a part of me thinks there was never a possibility of a happy ending for us. All those Cardassian novels you gave me sank in rather too well, I’m afraid. 

Why say all this now? What can I possibly hope to gain? Almost nothing, my dear Elim. Only that you should know, that no matter how far away, that there is someone in the universe who loves you very much. 

Now you have heard, I have done nearly everything in my power to fill the gaps left in my heart the day we parted. Alas, they cannot be filled. My heart belonged to you then, as it belongs to you now. What you choose to do about that is your business. 

  
  


Yours, 

Julian Bashir 

  
  


P.S. If by some miracle this letter was desired as much by the receiver as by the sender but you would rather I come to Cardassia, or anywhere really... I’ll be on the first transport. Need I convince you? You need only name the place. But I thought, perhaps after so many years in the public eye you might be ready to be plain and simple Garak once and for all. Both myself and the rose garden await the unlikely but tantalizing possibility of your reply. 

  
  
  
  
  


****

  
  


It was the morning, about two weeks had passed since Julian had sent his letter. He wasn’t antsy per say, but he knew how long subspace messages took to get to and from Cardassia. Garak had no doubt received his transmission. It had taken him two and a half decades to write it, it wasn’t reasonable to expect a response so quickly, he mused. 

A knock at the door. Behind it, a man he had not seen for 24 years. He looked nearly unchanged. 

“Really my dear doctor, did you have to send that on the eve of my retirement from political office? Isn’t that a bit dramatic even for your human sensibilities?” 

“I thought you liked my dramatic flourishes.” Julian smiled. 

“Oh I do,” Elim replied before wrapping the doctor in his arms, and kissing him. It was both passionate and tender, aggressive yet reserved. It was everything Julian had hoped for, and more.

“I didn’t think you’d come,” Julian said when the kiss ended. 

Elim shook his head. 

“I was on the first transport. I bought my ticket six months ago.” 

It was Julian's turn to shake his head now. 

"Can I do nothing to surprise you?"

"On the contrary dear, I thought I was going to be the one making grand declarations." 

This time, it was Julian who reached out to kiss Elim. 

**Author's Note:**

> Someone on tumblr said we need more fics where Garak goes to earth. Then this idea crawled into my brain and refused to leave. 
> 
> Thanks to my lovely beta who said, what if you actually went way harder on how sweet this was. So yeah!! It's Sweet!! In this house we only write OVER the TOP love confessions.


End file.
